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[LeoLeonardoIII]

They came at night. The bringers of death and destruction, the ones everyone blamed for destroying their little valley and causing so much hardship. At night the Dwarves returned.

They wore kitten leather skirts, and spoke with strange accents. One, obviously the leader, bullied the rest because he had a large nose, a metal cap, and a crossbow made from the bones of an Elf. They snuck in with their little wagon, crossed the tumbled-down Dwarven wall between the hill and the river, and found the old Dwarven hall.

"Urist, do you think this is it?" whispered one dwarf. She prodded a skull totem lying in the ashy dirt near the entrance.
"I do believe so, Urist" the leader whispered back. He whistled long and low at the entrance, lit himself a pipe, and sat down to think. In the overcast night his ruddy face was lit by the red glow of the match, until it went out. He puffed.
After a short time, the other dwarves got up from their break and started tearing apart the wagon. Barrels rolled out, along with some copper bars, a few blocks of green stone, a coil of rope, some bags, and one precious anvil. These things they carried inside, while the human town slept. And in the morning there was no indication what was going on under the earth.

But the silence was soon broken, for in the dawn a horrific shriek from across the river - "MY BABY! WHERE IS SHE?" - and a quick file of tiny shapes carrying tiny bundles jumped down into their hole near town.

[Helmaroc]

Screams and yells could be heard for days while the city ran about in confusion, many of the infants had disappeared. And no one knew how. Well, no one who would speak of it. The gnome appeared from the gates a few days after the incident, in a black cloak. He ran out of the city at extreme speed, and jumped into what seemed to be a hole in the fields.

Gliggrick snuck down the stone halls in haste, carrying a silvery dagger. He hid in every crevice in shadow available. Eventually, he came to what he was searching for.

OOC: Feel free to use Gliggrick the gnome in your writing.

[LeoLeonardoIII]

Picks rang in the distance. The sound of metal on stone, the Dwarven heartbeat, their cultural anthem. A dwarf hustled down the cool hallway, wringing water out of his beard. He came upon the rough stone door leading to the leader's office. It was ajar, swarms of puppies keeping it open.
The dwarf slipped through into the damp, bare office.

"So I see the guard dog breeding program is well underway" said the dwarf, pulling off his hat. He shined up the little metal gear symbol on the front, shook out the olms, smoothed back his hair, and put it back on.

"Mm" the leader replied. "Is the well built yet?"

"Sure thing, chief. The first well room flooded, so we had to dig out another one above it. That one flooded too, so we kept going. Lucky for us the well was right under the hill or we'd have to drink in a wooden shack."

The leader Urist grimaced. He well knew they were running low on booze. Their planter was working, but it would be a while before the Plump Helmets matured and even longer before they could be made into wine.
"And how about the entrance traps?"

The mechanic sighed. "Well, chief, the magma forges were all sealed off. I think they had to do it in a hurry, and their anvil was back in there. The miners are trying to dig a second shaft to breach magma again, but it's slow going. They keep-"

Suddenly a grimy dwarf covered in white stone dust burst in. Chalk-white and wild-eyes, he shouted "Sir! We've struck Mica!"

The leader coughed. "Praise the miners" he muttered half-heartedly. The miner's smile fell, in stages, and after a short moment he backed out of the office. Outside, a second miner frantically whispered "What did he say?" The other replied "Well, he didn't seem all that excited, but MICA! You know what we could do with mica?" The conversation trailed off as they breezed down the hallway.

The mechanic turned back to the leader. "Anyway, we don't have any weapons for the traps. I'm putting together a lot of stone mechanisms and such, and I can put up a few stone-fall traps. But until we get the forges up and running, I can't do much."

The leader well knew that the area had been deforested earlier. No wood means no charcoal for running a forge. They hadn't struck coal, and the landscape wasn't good for it anyway. They needed that magma.

"Get creative, Urist my boy. Stone-fall traps will have to do for now." The mechanic shrugged, and kicked aside a few puppies as he left, scratching his head. Something strange was brewing in his head, an odd plan. Something ... that he would keep a secret for now.

[Helmaroc]

Sorry for not updating as fast as usual, I was unable to get on the internet, out of town, blah blah blah.

[LeoLeonardoIII]

A curious kobold crept along the river, sniffing the air. He smelled Dwarves nearby. He crept closer to the hill, where he found a rusty metal pipe covered with brush. A delicious scent wafted out, very mushroomy, with a hint of something sweet. All the kobolds had been eating were the bundles of grass wafers they brought from the homeland.

The kobold snuck around the hill. He spotted a kitten tied to a root, and the kitten spotted him. It mewed curiously. The kobold threw a rock and knocked it out. He crept onward, and saw a few other kittens tied up around the perimeter inside the old wall.

He sidled up to the old, scarred door. Bones littered the ground, both Dwarven and Elven, and plenty of animal bones as well. There were new footprints. And the lock on the door had been repaired.

Out came the kobold lockpicking tools: a few bent pieces of wire, a flat metal shimmy, a leather flask of oil for the hinges, and a thin knife. He worked the lock, hunched over it, and suddenly heard a noise behind him!

---

The Human villagers strode up the hill, angry, bearing pitchforks and shovels, pickaxes and torches. There was quite a crowd. Dogs ran up and down the mob, and a few agitators kept them moving. They approached the old Dwarf Fortress, past the old wall, right up to the door. They started banging down the door with their picks.

Suddenly the door sprang outward! The foot-thick stone slab smashed into four of the villagers, trapping two underneath and stunning a couple others. Then the snap of a rope, and a great crash. From inside the entrance rolled an enormous stone gear, 3 feet thick and seven feet across. The mechanism rolled straight out, grinding down two villagers before striking a rock and spinning out of control. The spinning Felsite mechanism struck many villagers, landing beyond the fallen door, directly on the mob's main agitator. His hand was all that stuck out from under the gear.

And in their panic, the villagers dropped their tools, some their hats and shoes, in their haste to flee the deathtrap. Of the angry mob that came, only a few stragglers left.

A short time later, two Dwarves wandered out of the entrance. They admired the nice door lying on the ground. But the stone mechanism was what really impressed them. It was completely carved on the visible side, with images of Tentacle Demons striking down Elves. The Tentacle Demons were laughing. When they picked it up, and scraped off the villager under it, they found the other side to be carved with a rendition of an image of a Dwarf eating cheese.

They rolled the mechanism back into the dark passage, and left it lying against the wall for the mechanic to reset his trap. By unspoken agreement they decided that the cheese engraving should be on the wall-side.

They went back for the door, to replace it on its hinges. But while they were bringing in the gear, a quiet shape slipped in and blended into the darkness.

[Helmaroc]

Gliggrick awoke, and silently slid out from under the bed. A startling 'Eiik!' came from above him, and he quickly silenced the young dwarf under the sheets. Remaining hidden, he crept out of the room and down the hallway. He continued until he reached a door that was shaking slightly, and loud barking could be heard from behind. He quickly opened the door and plunged his knife into the crack. A howl escaped the space before it was muffled by the door as it closed. Gliggrick killed all the dogs, but as he approached the door to leave, it opened.

A dwarf wielding a whip walked in, and immediately cracked it on Gliggrick. Gliggrick released a yelp, and jumped on the dwarf, after a while, the dwarf lay unconscious, likely to bleed to death, and the gnome quickly running out of blood from his many wounds. He began to stumble down the stone halls, but was quickly ambushed from all directions.

[ May 23, 2008: Message edited by: Helmaroc ]

[LeoLeonardoIII]

The puppies leapt on the gnome, yelping and nibbling. He shook them off, throwing them against the walls. He rushed onward, down the main corridor, down the stairs, down, down. At last he came to a wall recently breached, and beyond a torchlit room dominated by a great adamantite seal. Beside it, a lever also of adamantite.

The gnome ran forward, pulled the lever with all his might, and the seal began to open like an iris. He jumped through into darkness. Behind him, two dwarves ran in and frantically pulled the lever to close the seal. The gnome turned as the last sliver of light was cut away.

He was alone, standing in a dark room. The pungent stench of mildew emanated from the wet dungeon walls. He heard water running farther down. The walls were engraved with horrible carvings of giant toad creatures eating Dwarves, Humans, and Elves. And farther in were some horrific depictions of Tentacle Demons and their depravity.

The gnome crept forward, shaking with fear. Blood dripped from his knife and his many wounds. Suddenly from the darkness he saw two glowing golden eyes. The ... thing croaked, breathing out with one word and in with the next.

"Where ... are YOU ... going ... fleshthing?"

And then it laughed, a gutteral croaking laugh that was echoed from farther inside the now-sealed tunnels.

[Helmaroc]

Gliggrick was shaking and bleeding, his  lack of energy prevented him from blocking the long tongue that wrapped around his arm and retracted, sending him flying into the giant toad's mouth. A few crunches, and a clink of metal falling on stone, and Gliggrick was gone.

[DreaDFanG]

OOC:sorry I've been gone I thaught the thread died out, glad to see it though!
This is going to be weird but its actualy two separate things Dreadfang's continuation and an addition of The Collector.

DREADFANG
Having once lived in a blisful ignorance, until that fateful day of rage, now dreadfang lives in knowlegded fer of himself and of his powers, he has thus banished himself to solitude, deep below the land, in a lybrinth of stone, to be lost to all forever...or would he?  

(OOC: Dreadfang is now a Use-able character, but only if you find a way threw the lybrinth and its countless traps, pitfalls, and dangers.

-------------------------------------

COLLECTOR
Gerald Red, was always curious about the ways of life.  In his youth he killed his neighbor's child to find out how the human body worked.  In his teens he killed both his parents to do comparitive anatomy.  As a young adult he killed an elf, dwarf, and gnome to find species simalarities. But only as an adult did he find his purpose in life, in the form of a wizard. Having beaten the wizard to death with his own arms, did he find the magical inclined creatures have a severly different body anatomy, a muscle stucture that can only be descibed as differnt, and a specialized brain structurage that is foreign.  At the age of fifty he was struck ill by a crippleing disease that gave him under a year to live.  All seemed hopeless until he met a Demon, that in exchange for its life gave him five extra years to his fading life.  In that time he looked for a Master of all trades, and found one in the far north, on a frozen island. Offering imortality in the form of a body of war, crafted using long forgoten techniques in a forge of dragon bone, over a magical fueled fire, blessed with countless spells and enchantments, and given conscous thaught by thrice cursing it with demon souls, permentently afixed to his flesh threw the anceint arts of fleshsmithing, necromancy, and soulbinding he has trancended to a level of power unheld by any but fleshgods.  For around a hundred years he has traveled collecting, exsperimenting, testing, and leaving a wake of death in his path.

Now RED stands on the edge of Zustashigėr, and has his eyes set on staying...

OOC:He is the size of a human, bloodrust colored, entirely covered in metal, completely evil, and is immune to almost everything, he is 154 years old, he carries twin wrist blades around 4 feet long, when sleeping or unconsous the armor takes over killing anything that threatens it, the armor is intelegent and super agile and can intercept attacks faster than lightning, and has other properties as well.

[ May 25, 2008: Message edited by: DreaDFanG ]

[Helmaroc]

Alright, but the wizard is not currently in Zustashiger, and cannot be played until he arrives. And is Dreadfang under Zustashiger soil?

Oh yeah, and thanks for coming back!

[ May 24, 2008: Message edited by: Helmaroc ]

[DreaDFanG]

OOC:Correct but hes not a wizard...and the enterance to the lybrinth lies where the old tree use to...

"Perfect!", RED spoke threw the metal face, 'Indeed, it is a fine location for your dark fortress sire' the armor voiced in his mind, "Ee shel bein imeadiatly maser" said his Slave Master, who had gained the lisp by losing half his face in a fight ageinst eight kittens.  So his slave hoard began to build a majestic obsidian tower of stones carried from distant lava feilds, to which RED had traveled to 'Study' the native life, they build with fury and had dug deep into a cliff-face and had built the structurage to a tower in but six hours, and had the entire fortress built within a day.  Surrounded by a lava pit it stood a tremendous sight, errected in but a single day. At its top sat the throne room, and apon the thrown sat RED. "A place to call home." RED breathed, 'Of course, sire' the armor said to him...

OOC: this tower of darkness is in the south, the lava is artificialy made, and the tower is attached to the cliff-face that runs up about half way, the throne faces north overlooking the land, the cliff-face is in a V shape attached to the tower.

[Helmaroc]

Alright. I'm having some trouble understanding what you write, I'm afraid. Let me get this straight: RED is a man with magical power and armor? Please explain, I enjoy your ideas, they are just hard to grasp.

[DreaDFanG]

OOC:     :mad: I did it again...he's a semi-imortal magical human colosus, think along the lines of DF ironman and you'd be pretty close, its based on a little known cyborg comic called RED and WENDY... now that comic was brutal, too bad there was only three episodes.

"Scall!"RED roared at a ungod-ly volume to which he was allowed, and sent reverberations threw-out the tower. "Yec maser, hat iss att oua equir om ee?"The slave master gurged out, 'Man, I nearly forgot how bad that lisp was.'the armor joked. "send forth a small battalion of Reakers to that village, tell them if they meet resistance to subdue but not kill."Worded RED as he waved his hand towards the human town.

OOC:Reakers are like zombies on mind controling steroids, fast, agile, durable, obediant, but very dumb, tend to go dodging off cliffs, and smell like zombies tend to...really foul, but they can speak!

[ May 26, 2008: Message edited by: DreaDFanG ]

[Helmaroc]

The battalion of about sixty reakers charged to the village, black figures in the night. The small field around the village walls provided a small warning before the army reached the gates. As soon as they did, they began trying to climb the ironwork gates. The gates, however, were not meant to defend, and had many foot and handholds within the ornate decoration. A group of spearmen were in position a few meters from the gates, and as soon as the first reaker hit the ground, "Advance!". The soldiers ran, spears horizontal, shields held close. An unnatural moan signified the first casualty, but many of the reakers had ducked under the spears, and were crawling along with their bulging arms and ripping the armored legs out from under the spearmen. In a few moments, all the soldiers were unconscious or dazed. The reakers continued their charge through the village.

[LeoLeonardoIII]

The town square was quiet after the brief cries at the wall. A bronze statue of a man on a horse, the horse rearing up on two legs, was in the center of a swath of grass. A zombie spotted it, and rushed forward. He sprang onto the statue, missing, and impaled himself on the decorative ironwork surrounding it.

---

The zombies charged forward, spreading through the town. Suddenly in their collective consciousness a blip near the village green: an enemy to fight! They all changed course and started gallumping toward the call.

In the center of the town the zombies converged. They attacked the bronze horseman, suffering numerous casualties and a few fatalities because they kept falling over the ironwork. Eventually they managed to break the statue, and it came crashing down killing four more zombies. They triumphantly carried the statue out the town gates, while under fire from the bow-wielding militia.

Twelve injured zombies returned that night, bearing the "subdued" statue and a watermelon they inexplicably looted.

---

Red was in his energy chamber recharging. The tower was quiet, the background hum and grind of hot machinery and the occasional squeal of metal on metal. But the faint noise was enough to cover the patter of tiny feet. A small canine (that's right, THEY'RE DOGLIKE) shape scuttled from shadow to shadow. The kobold hid in a dark side passage as a zombie pushed a cart full of stone forward and past him.

Finally the kobold found something strange: an enormous yellow diamond embedded in a ribbed pipe of some kind extending from the floor into the wall. Behind the diamond he could see a bubbly red fluid moving. The temptation was too great, and he pried it out.

Immediately a gush of hot red gas exploded outward, throwing the kobold and his prize back. He shook it off and fled, the diamond under one arm, the other shoulder broken. The gas filled the room as panicked zombies tried to plug the hole.

Red, in his sanctum, felt his energy dissolve. He could still communicate with his armor, but he found himself unable to perform any supernatural things. He was still quite durable, and able to move as a normal human could, and he could still command his zombies, but his personal qualities were otherwise no longer above average. He knew exactly what had happened: someone had stolen his phylactery, his Soul-Stone, the heart of his malevolent power. Red's anger knew no limit.

---

And that someone crept painfully through a fissure in the lowest levels of the great fortress tower, eventually to pass back through the old Dwarven halls, up through the parts the Dwarves reclaimed, and hopefully out and back to his mates in the little kobold hole in the valley.

But as he moved from shadow to shadow, he felt stronger, more alive. His broken shoulder set and mended, his many scratches and bruises faded, and the carbuncle on his butt evaporated. He was now Kutarlin Az, Thief of Fate, Legendary Burglar, and possessor of far more than he yet knew.